Israel
by Strawberry Shortcake123
Summary: Israel still loves you. Tiva. Oneshot. Post 7x04, Good Cop, Bad Cop.


_If you're callin' 'bout my heart_

_It's still yours_

_I should've listened to it a little more_

_Then it wouldn't have taken me so long_

_To know where I belong_

Ziva sat in the passenger seat of the car, staring out the window at the house they had just left. The only person with her was McGee, and he was on the phone with Gibbs, giving him the information they had gathered from the suspect's wife. In the several weeks since she had been reinstated at NCIS, this time as an actual agent, the atmosphere of the team had returned mostly to normal. If it weren't for one certain person, she could have felt like she had never left.

Unfortunately, the dynamic between her and Tony DiNozzo had been… altered. Putting a label on its nature now was difficult; it wasn't exactly strained, but it also wasn't comfortable. It wasn't bad, but they had been through a lot in the past several months, and some things felt unresolved. The problem was, she didn't know how to fix them.

McGee closed his cell phone. As he turned on the car, Ziva grabbed his arm. "McGee."

"Yeah?"

"In Somalia… I never got a straight answer to my question." She watched him turn to her with a quizzical look. "I asked why you were there."

He scoffed, avoiding her gaze. The car was running, but they weren't going anywhere yet. "I'm pretty sure Tony answered that one."

_Couldn't live without you, I guess_. Yes, those words were burned into her brain; of course she would never forget them. But that wasn't what she wanted to know. She wanted to know how it had happened, how they had ended up finding her. There was a theory forming in the back of her mind, but she wanted verification. "I suppose I should have asked _how_ you were there."

For several moments, he glanced from her to the windshield to the console and back again, seeming to debate something. Ziva watched him, knowing he would cave. When he did, the first thing out of his mouth was, "You can't tell Tony we talked about this. He might kill me."

"I doubt that," she said mildly.

McGee gave her a pleading look.

"Alright, McGee. I will not say anything about it."

Eyes trained on the dashboard, he started talking. "We found out the _Damocles_ went down, and assumed you had gone down with it, and… Tony kind of lost it, Ziva. He was totally disinterested in work, distracted, wasn't making jokes. It was creepy and eerie and… and it was like that until one day, he decided he was going to find your killer, and nobody was going to stop him. Gibbs and I went along with it because… I guess because it was important to him. And because we still considered you a part of the team, so we kind of needed to avenge your death, too." Finally, he raised his eyes and looked at her. "Ziva, you and Tony are teammates in a different way than you and me and Gibbs are. We felt your loss really hard, but… Tony. He told you the truth. He really cannot live without you."

Ziva had wanted details. She had wanted to know about every piece of forensic evidence they had used to find Saleem's hideout. But she found herself saying, "Thank you, McGee," because for some reason, Tony initiating the mission as she'd suspected overshadowed anything else there could be to disclose.

0000000000

At eleven thirty that night, she ended up outside Tony's apartment. There was a draft in the hallway; she clutched her coat around her and crossed her arms tight over her chest. She waited for the courage to knock on the door.

And then, it swung open on its own.

For a long second, Tony and Ziva stared at each other. Eventually, she cleared her throat and managed to get out a sentence. "Where are you going?"

"For a Coke," he said slowly, but stepped back into the apartment, holding the door open for her. "Come on in."

She thrust her hands in her coat pockets and accepted the invitation. There was a half-eaten Lean Cuisine sitting on his coffee table, and a movie was paused on the TV screen. The sight was pretty much what she had expected to see. "What are you watching?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Um." Tony looked bashful and tried to appear engrossed in closing and locking the door. "Second _Harry Potter _movie."

Ziva chuckled. "That does not seem like it would live up to your standards."

He picked up the remote and flipped the TV off. Half changing the subject and half curious, he leaned against the arm of his couch and looked at her. "So what's up?"

What _was_ up? Honestly, she didn't know what she was there to say. All she knew was that he was the reason she was alive, and that deserved…

"Thank you," she breathed before she could finish her thought.

Tony's brow furrowed, but she didn't elaborate; she just waited. Inside her coat, her arms felt hot, and beads of sweat formed on the back of her neck. Finally, he asked, "For what?"

"For everything. For saving me, and forgiving me for being so awful to you-"

"You already apologized, Ziva. You don't need to do it again."

"I am not." Unable to bear the heat anymore, she slipped her coat off and lay it on the chair behind her. "I am thanking you, Tony, for all you've done for me, and…" _He told you the truth. He really cannot live without you._ "Especially for remaining loyal to me, even when I had not been loyal to you."

Ziva briefly worried that Tony would figure out what McGee had told her, but his mind seemed to not be on her sources of information. With his eyes boring into hers, he took a step closer. "We both made mistakes, Ziva. They're in the past. We've moved past them."

The backs of her eyes burned unexpectedly; she ducked her head as she attempted to hold the tears at bay. "I wish…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

Gentle hands touched her shoulders. "We can't change anything that's already happened. We just have to keep moving forward."

"It will never happen again?" Ziva murmured, allowing herself to raise her eyes. Tony's green ones met hers. "We will never again betray each other's trust, yes, Tony?"

"Never," he said, and fully enveloped her in his arms. Hers went loosely around his waist, and he rested his chin on her head. While her head was buried in Tony's t-shirt, Ziva allowed herself to shed a few tears- they were mostly due to happiness and relief, but they also had something to do with what she could not say.

_What if I still love you?_

Being in Tony's arms would have to satisfy her right now; their relationship wasn't ready to see if it could survive an admission of love. Eventually, it would be, and this was something Ziva knew for certain.

For now, she was happy being where she belonged.

**Yay! I actually like this!**

**This story was inspired by the song Austin by Blake Shelton. It's gorgeous, guys, and even if you're of the country music hating variety, you should really go listen to it. LOVE IT. The quote at the very top is a verse from the song, and that's the verse, really, that gave me this idea.**

**Thanks for reading, and please review! : )**


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